Star Crossed
by teamdamsay7
Summary: "We're not friends. We're complete strangers with a little connection that would typically mean nothing to me right now. But apparently the Hunger Games is all just a big show, and right now we're playing star-crossed lovers. I wasn't picked to be an actress, but if I have to do this to survive... bring it on." AU Glee. Based on The Hunger Games.
1. The Beginning

I'm Santana Lopez, sixteen, from District 12, or as most people called it, the Seam.

I am not very thin, unlike other people from our district. I'm slim, but still bigger than my neighbors. I'm not rich. I just know how to hunt and kill, so I don't go hungry. My family won't survive without me, and I can't even imagine if that happens...

Good thing a lot of people love my sister Annie. She's a sweet girl, and she's healed a lot of people. She can survive. She's actually the only person I consider as my family nowadays.

My mother and father died just recently, and my_ abuela_ bailed on me, now living in a better house with better food. She actually has a lot of rich friends. She can influence even the president of Panem, but she's too afraid to. She has an effect on everyone. But I hate her for using this skill to abandon us.

So actually Annie is the only person I'm worried about today. Why?

Well, today is the reaping day, and the odds are not in my favor. I have a lot of slips, twenty to be exact. If I die, who will take care of her? Finn, my annoyingly naive and sometimes clueless (but admittedly skilled in hunting) best guy friend? He's got a family. A whole lot of sisters and brothers. I wouldn't count on him to feed my sister, even if he is a caring guy.

He's just got too many mouths to feed.

But I wouldn't say that it would be easier if Finn got picked. He could survive, but maybe not against the Career Tributes, a bunch of well-trained killing machines from the wealthy districts. I don't know what hurts me more if he doesn't make it: the fact he's dead or the fact I relied on his hunting skills a lot to survive.

It's not impossible. He's sixteen like me too, but he has thirty-seven slips, because he has two brothers and one sister. He needs the tesserae, something worth a good supply of grain and oil. You can get some if you enter more times. That's why instead of just five, both of us let them put more slips with our names.

Emma Trinket, a woman with pink paint all over herself, a slight obsession with manners and cleanliness and a mental disorder I cannot remember, smiles and brightly announces, "Happy Hunger Games! May the odds be ever in your favor." I listen to this, but I stop caring about the rest of the nonsense and fluff she talks about later on.

"Okay, ladies first," she says in her trademark squeaky voice. I expect it to be me.

But it's not me.

It's Annie.

I run. "No! I volunteer!"

Everybody's surprised. They hadn't had a volunteer since ages.

Annie cries, but I ignore it. I get a little angry at her. She's so weak, I keep thinking. Her eyes make me feel terrible. I did this for her and she's like that? Of course she didn't do anything wrong. I just feel nothing positive about my situation right now my mind starts to blame even her.

"I volunteer as tribute."

There was silence, a very long, rare silence, which meant that they thought this was wrong. Emma keeps talking in a very bubbly tone it's irritating. But I'm Santana. I never cry, even in this situation.

Actually I'm at the danger of bursting into tears, but I'm strong enough to stop them from flowing.

I expect some form of sympathetic salute to me, but then again, I'm Santana, a girl who never tries to be polite or look pretty. I look pretty filthy each day, and act as if I couldn't care less, which is true, because there's not much reason for me to. I fight anyone who provokes me. I'm not exactly lovable.

But as this thought crosses my mind they all suddenly give me a three-finger salute, which means that I actually matter. I smile instead of crying. Crying makes you look weak. I'm on TV. If even a single tear trickles down my face, the other tributes will assume I'm a weakling. Even if I prove them wrong, I hate it when people underestimate me. I'm barely 5'5 and scrawnier than most tributes. I get it, I'm not really big. But I can hurt them if I wanted to and I assure you I will even if I don't win.

The drama is over after a few minutes, when Emma babbles about some protocols and fluff. Then, the boys are up. Please don't be Finn. I could not imagine killing him, even trying. He's my friend. Or my brother. Friend just doesn't sound enough.

It's not him. It's Sebastian Smythe, a baker's son who once gave me bread and saved us from dying of hunger. He looks at me with the intensity of a thousand suns. He remembers me, maybe.

But I look away. I don't want to remember what he did. The last thing I need is a soft spot for him. I don't want to be swayed by his puppy dog eyes. He won't go down with a fight, I know that, even if he looks so harmless and even charmingly sweet. As will I. After a week of preparation I _will_ try to kill him, or die trying.


	2. Moving On

We're brought into custody - we're not trapped or anything but, we're still kept in a large room inside the Justice Building. Annie runs to me, crying. "Why did you do it, Sanny? Why?" I almost do the same, but we're still on TV, I just cannot afford to look weak. And I'm not. But my little sister always makes me feel emotions I don't usually feel.

"I did it for you." Annie just looks at me and sniffs. If I die, she'll be all alone, maybe that's how she feels, maybe that's why she's so upset. But there's Finn. He can take care of her. But apparently she doesn't see this. She runs away, maybe to cry into Finn's arms. They were so alike, so sweet and both naive, unlike me.

Brittany, a good friend and my schoolmate, approaches me. "I saw it." "What?" I ask. "I saw what you did. You just saved Annie from a terrible death. You should be proud."

I can't believe this girl. I should be proud? I'm about to face my death! I should be proud?

But inside my heart I know that she's just trying to cheer me up, although she's saying it wrong. I frown, about to tell her how I feel, but then she hands me a pin. A golden mockingjay pin.

She smiles. "My father wants me to keep it because I could use it to buy stuff or whatsoever. But I know you need it more than me." That's true. She's actually Mayor Undersee's daughter, somebody who could buy tons of things even without a bird pin. But what would I need this for? It's not like I could buy anything with it in these circumstances. I'll be in the arena by next week, and I don't have much time to buy anything today.

She sees the look on my face and says, "Don't forget who you are... it's easy in this cruel world. In your world. But maybe you can remember who you are... just keep wearing the pin." I nod, realizing what she means.

"You're not just a piece of the Games, Santana. Don't ever forget that." We hug, and she bolts off, leaving me sitting on my chair, carefully putting on the pin.

I sigh. The speaker booms something I couldn't care less about, but I feel that it's trying to say that it's time, because I see Sebastian and a few others moving out of the room.

We ride the train, a very nice, Capitol-made one, very unlike the District 12's, which is slower and less glamorous than this. I look at the beautiful carpets, the lights (which are probably 'chandeliers') and the table, full of everything delicious. I feel excited, but I try not to let it show.

Emma squeals, "Oh, what a beautiful room!" I peer in. "Is that mine?" I blurt out. Sebastian snickers, almost snorting. I feel a little embarrassed. "Yes, it is," she replies matter-of-factly. I shoot a look at Sebastian. Now _he_ gets to feel humiliated, but if he actually is, he's good at acting, because he looks emotionless.

Now she's telling us about dinner and table manners. My mouth is watering at the sight of cookies and chicken and juices, things we couldn't afford in District 12. At least, not altogether. I could find an orange somewhere and suck up the juice, or kill a bunch of rabbits for two nutty cookies.

Sebastian shoots a look at me again. But instead of the poker faces he had been previously showing he's now looking quite amused. I realize I look like a puppy. A drooling, hungry puppy. I blush.

Emma sits, and we follow. He's right next to me, and we hardly talk. I just eat. Eat like there's no tomorrow. With my situation that's possible.

She looks bored. Of course she is. She eats this stuff every day. Maybe if I get her a fresh squirrel she'd snap out of it. I hate silent meals. Annie and I always talked and laughed together. I hate this feeling. I do love the food though.

We make eye contact. She knows what I'm thinking. Unfortunately, she makes the situation a lot more awkward. "Do you know each other?" she asks Sebastian and me.

"Uh, sure," he replies. First time I saw him talk. "A little. We go to the same school so we see each other a lot." I look at him. _What is he doing_?

"Oh," she blurts out, "nothing going on between you two?" What an insensitive question for a woman we just met.

"Not much..." Not much? As in yes, but only a little? Great answer, bread boy. My cheeks turn redder and redder, partly because I'm embarrassed, but also because of something I can't quite describe.

"Sure," I just say. "We're actually fond of each other. Very." Surprisingly, he smiles. I smile back, but it quickly fades. What's with me?

I feel like saying another stupid thing when a roast pig arrives. Emma stands up politely, slowly making her way to the food. I'm about to say the same when he grins at me. "I'm very fond of you too."

Huh.


	3. Surprises

We get told that there will be interviews. Okay. I'm not really a good speaker. But I'll find a way to suck this up.

"Have you thought about how you'll act?" Emma asks us. Sebastian doesn't say a word. I break the silence. "I will act like myself. People will love that, won't they?" She laughs. "Funny, dear." "I was serious," I say.

She hesitates, but says it anyway. "You're not very lovable. You have no table manners, and you talk like you're drunk. You dress like a clown. That just won't do, Santana. I'm sorry." I'm speechless. "Okay," I say very loudly. "So maybe you can think of some angle for me while I go out and enjoy being me for the last time."

I go out, carrying a glass of this delicious 'chocolate' thing I've never tasted before. She should thank her buttons I didn't insult her insane clothes and weird accent. Maybe she's right, I'm not lovable. But I just hate her comment, how she made me feel like an idiot. I'm usually always in high spirits.

Then I remember I'm on TV. The cameras are located outside the building, and now I'm unsafe from everyone's eyes, unlike Sebastian and Emma, who can talk about anything and everything in the non-televised room. If I cry, my fellow tributes might see me as someone weak. If I throw a hissy fit, I won't go anywhere close to charming anyone.

I just look at the view. The Capitol is very bright and out-there, with freaky fashions and headache-inducing colors, mostly pink, a color I hate and will never ever wear, and shades of yellow and light green. But it's marvelous, compared to the Seam, where we don't eat fancy muffins or drink delicious brown drinks (oh, chocolate) or have bulging closets full of fancy clothes. They certainly live a fast and easy life here.

Suddenly Sebastian approaches me. "Hey," he says. "We haven't talked a lot." "That's because you hardly talk," I counter. He laughs. I can't help doing the same.

"So what were you talking back there?" I ask. I'm careful not to publicly announce that we were previously planning about how to act during the interview, because that would tip the audience off. They just like honesty and staying true to yourself or whatever. (But if you're being yourself and acting like a complete moron then they still won't like you.)

"You," he says, looking at me again with his sweet eyes. All of a sudden he makes a move to kiss me and succeeds. "What ?" I shriek. He doesn't respond. I run back to the room to absorb everything.

I don't want to have any feelings for him. Maybe hatred would do, because it's not impossible we might cross paths in the arena and I may have to kill him. But what was that all about?

But I don't have much time to think anymore. The world knows, and tomorrow is my interview.


	4. On Fire

My stylist comes in. He looks okay, nice even, compared to the others in my prep team who looked like painted freaks. He's wearing a pair of grey trousers and a black shirt. Simple but nice.

"Hi, I'm Kurt," he says in a soft voice. He doesn't have the so-called Capitol accent, which made anything sound funny. I sigh in relief after he talks about how beautiful I am and how my hair looks good. I don't exactly love talking about fashion but I'm glad he's not talking about how I should really stop eating to lose more weight or what color I should dye my hair like the other idiots in my prep team.

He then asks me what I do at the Seam. I was expecting him to know, but well, whatever. People of the Capitol usually care only about how they look. "We're coal miners," I say matter-of-factly, "and everybody knows that." He sighs sadly, probably because he sees how furious I look. I still can't believe that the Capitol's citizens are too caught up on beauty they're clueless about what we people in the districts do.

"I know you're coal miners, Santana, but I want to know about your lives aside from the 'we mine coal' front. How do you feel?" he explains. Great. This gets cheesier by the minute. "Our families starve, we can barely feel anything. How can you not know?" I know he's not trying to rouse any bad feelings, but I can't help feeling angry.

He stops asking and just sits silently. Then he says, "You're always so mad because of your feelings." I don't want to explain any further, but I don't want to snap at him too, so I just nod. "You have heat, like coal. You're the girl on fire!" I don't say anything because I'm still wondering about what he'll do to me. Design a red dress? Paint me black as if I was burned? "We knew that from the start. You're fiery! That's why we decided to set you on fire."

I want to stay relaxed and poised, but I just cannot. "Are you crazy?" I shout. "I'm going to die even before I reach the arena with your stupid idea!" It's his turn to look offended, but unlike me, he stays calm. "It's just a synthetic fire. No need to worry. Go to your room and rest for a while. The interview's in an hour."

I stomp my way to my room, which looks less appealing to me now despite its fancy chandeliers and delicacies which are lined up on a small table. All I could think of is Annie and Finn and my life back in District 12. I would give all this luxury to go back to my humble, somewhat less stressful life there. The interview's today, plus we tributes have to walk down a platform wearing costumes that will either attract sponsors or make you the laughingstock of Panem. Districts 1, 2 and 4 usually have the best, considering that they're the wealthiest and also the Capitol's lapdogs. They know what to wear and act and are crowd favorites from year to year. District 12's costumes are always lousy. Once, our tributes showed up naked covered in coal. Of course _that_ didn't help in bringing in sponsors. I'm scared to death by Kurt's outrageous idea but I'm actually more concerned that our costumes may not be attractive enough.

I spend my break with all these crazy thoughts in my mind. Soon Emma knocks on my door. "Santana! It's time!" I hastily stand up. Nobody likes tardy tributes.

A lot of them look wonderful. District 1's tributes, a blonde boy who's certainly charming the crowd and a foxy girl with flowing lush hair, look amazing in their glittery clothes. District 2 has two brown-haired tributes who are both in black ruffled outfits; the girl is wearing a long dress while the boy is in an elegant suit. The four of them are certainly the ones to be afraid of, I tell myself.

But here I am, wearing a simple black leotard. Way to bring in sponsors. Sebastian looks worried too, probably because he knows we're wearing clothes that won't win the crowd. But then I remember.

We're going to be on fire.

Kurt and a short girl, probably his styling partner, set us on fire. I expect heat. I'm going to die for sure. But then I just feel ticklish.

It works! Yes, it works! Don't forget...

I'm still alive!

I look at the screen. We're up. Not to brag, but we're dazzling. Sebastian holds my hand. I look confused. But then Kurt gives us a thumbs-up and I realize it's his direction. The crowd goes wild. I'm so happy and actually proud of myself as we walk around the platform. We both raise our hands triumphantly. Everyone loves it.

I'm about to let go when he squeezes my hand. "Don't," he begs. "I think I'm about to fall off this thing." Suddenly I remember the kiss and I frown. Suddenly I feel okay with the thought of him crashing down the platform. But I know that I'm being immature so I let him hold my hand for support just one last time.

We did it. The anthem plays, and soon I'm thinking about something else entirely. About my little sister. Is she watching me right now? Is Finn alright? How about Brittany? Is she okay? She might not be. Her father isn't vicious but right now I'm thinking of the worst possible things that could happen to the people I care about.

Then it's interview time. The girl from District 1, Quinn, is wearing a sparkly cocktail dress. She playfully twirls her wavy blonde hair, probably especially curled for this occasion. No doubt, she's acting all flirty and sexy. Their escorts and mentors really plan some sort of angle for their tributes, don't they?

The boy from District 1, Sam, is down-to-earth and sweet, gushing about fluff and sometimes winking. He's trying to enchant the audience, I guess.

The second district's twosome, Rachel and Jesse, is surprisingly intimidating. You can see by the look in their eyes that they're eager to be in the arena already to kill, like they've been doing it for all their life and it's become some sort of a hobby for them, which is probably true. Districts 1, 2 and 4's tributes are called Careers, people who've been trained for The Hunger Games forever, though it's technically against the rules.

Soon it's my turn. I cry about Annie, I giggle in my dress and twirl like a fool. I bet I look like a superficial idiot to all of Panem right now, just unforgettable. Maybe not so, because I got an eleven out of twelve (eleven!) at training because I got mad at the Gamemakers for ignoring me just because of a roasted pig. I ended up shooting the apple in the pig's mouth because I was so furious. Apparently, they want fierce players, so I got a big score. That part of the training is secret though so naturally I got grilled about it. Thank God for the buzzer, which signaled that my three-minute interview was over.

It's Sebastian's turn. He's acting all chummy with the host, talking about his life as a baker's son and fluff. It was admittedly entertaining and fun. Well, until they start to talk about me.

"We all saw your kiss with Santana. What can you say?" the host babbles. He starts stammering. "I... I don't... I don't really know." I'm irked. I want an explanation.

"It was a real moment between us." Oh please.

"I just really love her. But she doesn't feel the same."

The camera turns to me. I see my blush onscreen. Gah! Why do I feel so moved and confused?

Then I hear the buzzer. Oh yes. That's good. Can't take more of this.

Suddenly I realize I'm such a fool. He's not actually in love with me! If the other tributes had an angle how could he not have one too? He tries to approach me, probably to explain but it's too late. I shove him and he falls hard.


End file.
